


A Hero's Heart

by Chiichen



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV Spoilers, Fluff, Haurchefant Is A Cinnamon Roll, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Mental Breakdown, Mild Blood, Minor Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiichen/pseuds/Chiichen
Summary: „My friends! It is good to see you!” He greeted the Warrior of Light, followed closely by the young Elezen he’d come to know as Alphinaud and a kind looking Lalafell he had yet to get acquainted with. His initial bright smile fell as soon as his eyes met with the heroine's, smoothing out into a friendly expression which held more kindness than the initial excitement burning in his heart.-Haurchefant could only watch as the burden of being the Warrior of Light took its toll on his dearest friend.
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone & Warrior of Light
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILER WARNING! Be sure to complete the ARR MSQ before reading!
> 
> It never sat quite right with me how the WoL reacted to losing their friends. I wrote this story to explore their feelings and those I felt when playing through the MSQ. I hope you enjoy.

Haurchefant looked up from the papers he was just about to sign when the large doors swung open, allowing the cold winds of the land to sweep into the room. It took him mere moments to identify his guests, his quill instantly laid down as he stood up from his seat.

„My friends! It is good to see you!” He greeted the Warrior of Light, followed closely by the young Elezen he’d come to know as Alphinaud and a kind looking Lalafell he had yet to get acquainted with. His initial bright smile fell as soon as his eyes met with the heroine's, smoothing out into a friendly expression which held more kindness than the initial excitement burning in his heart. He let his gaze shortly wander to the two figures tracking behind Chirisa. Their steps were not as steadfast as those of the Warrior of Light, gifting them with the look of warriors he’d seen being defeated not only by war but by heartbreak.

Normally the well-spoken Alphinaud would be the first to greet and state their business, but even when the small group came to a stop in front of his desk, his young eyes were hidden behind white hair, coated in a thin layer of snow. Haurchefant’s stomach stung by this and other foreboding signs, but he refused to let them sicker into his being. He shifted his gaze to the female Miqo’te with the star-kissed eyes, only getting a glance at the honey-coloured orb behind her fringe before he settled onto the blue orb which had always reminded him of a clear sky in the deepest of nights. Although her posture showed no signs of defeat like those of her friends, he would like to think that he could pick up her true feelings by those tale-telling eyes. Alas, he could have sworn his heart stopped when he saw the hurt hidden behind those lovely eyelashes. But he ignored his mind screaming at him, straightening his back to show whatever ailed those he held dear, could trust him to pass on some of the heavy load on their shoulders.

“Tell me, my dear,” he almost sing-sang, “How can this simple knight help you in your hour of need?”

_____________

Chirisa stared at the flickering flames of the fire as it slowly but surely ate away on the wood it had been provided not too long ago. Even though the radiating heat kept the chill from the outside world away, it could not reach the chill settled in her bones. She could not tell if the cold clinging to her had something to do with the powers she lost after the connection to the crystals had been severed by Midgardsormr, or if it was the hole that remained after the most recent events. Not even the now cold cacao in her hands had been able to fend off the numbness in her fingers.

“I believe even the Warrior of Light needs her rest after such trying days.”

Her ears flicked as the door behind her softly closed, wondering how she’d missed the Elezen entering. She really was a fraud, if she could not even pick up on these little things.

Haurchefant didn’t move from the position at the other end of the room, allowing her to dismiss his presence if she so wished for. The grip on the cup tightened ever so slightly but relaxed quickly as she remembered what position she currently held. She couldn’t allow herself to be this shook.

“My room is too far down the hall. I cannot hear them if they call for me,” she spoke in hushed tones. The blue-haired Elezen took this as a proposal to join her, swiftly setting two steaming cups of fresh cocoa on the table before taking a seat only two short steps to the right of the Miqo’te. To his dismay, Haurchefant saw that his heroine had yet to change from her armour into more comfortable clothes, while the bow and quiver he’d grown accustomed to were lying on the floor within arms-reach. But the soft smile on his lips didn’t waver.

“The terrors of the night can claim even the bravest of Dragoon,” he said as he stoked the fire, the light sparking into life yet anew. “It darkens my thoughts that a soul as young as the one of Alphinaud is prone to fall be prey to them.”

He glanced at the woman beside him, noting how the fingers ever-so-lightly twitched against the cup in her hands. He laid the stoker onto the cold stone floor in front of the fire, waiting for a reply. After getting none for several minutes, he slowly raised his hands as not to startle his company, carefully encasing the hands of his heroine, prying her fingers from the cold cup. It looked like the touch woke her from the dreams she’d seen in the fire’s flames. First, her eyes flickered to the intruding hands and then to the soul gates of the Elezen himself. Haurchefant didn’t utter a word as he set the cup onto the table behind them with one hand, as the other softly held onto her, refusing to let go of them for even a moment. Only when he held the cold fingers in both of his, embracing them with his natural warmth, did he look back into her eyes, searching for the hurt he’d seen only a few hours prior.

“My heart aches at the thought of what you and your friends had to endure. Though I will not allow myself to say that I know how you feel, know that I am also no stranger to loss and grief. Though many may think the Warrior of Light to be an indestructible weapon of the gods, these cold fingers which no flame can warm in this hour, are proof that she is but a mortal, like me.” A smile tugged on his lips as he drew circles with his thumbs on cold skin. “Allow me to take some of your burdens like you did since you bestowed me with your presence many months ago.”

“Haurchefant…” Her voice quivered ever so slightly, unheard by untrained ears. With dismay he saw how her eyes glimmered with unshed tears, only to be hidden once she lowered her head. Strings squeezed his heart, when she pulled back from his hold on her hands, leaving only the tips of her fingers to brush against his warmth. She shook her head, her lovely ears drooping.

“I cannot. Not yet.”

‘ _And I doubt I ever will,_ ’ he could almost hear in the silence tracing her fair voice. Though it hurt him to hear such honesty, he wouldn’t allow himself to push the matter. Instead, he lifted her right hand, pressing his lips to the cold knuckles, restraining himself to go any further.

“Then at least let _me_ watch over your friends in this dark night, so you can spend the few hours left of it in dreamless peace. I would fear losing you to the cold which seemed to have seeped into your limbs.”

It took some moments before he received the answer he so desperately wished for. A short nod was all he needed to keep his hope alive. He would not offer another word, only a smile of gratitude and another kiss onto cold skin. He would not comment as he carefully held her body close to his to aid the stumbling and unsteady steps of his most honoured guest as he led her to the already awaiting bedroom. He closed the door a tad reluctantly but promised himself to check on his fallen heroine in a few hours. He would call for a soldier to watch this cursed door separating him from her, in case the terrors of the night claimed her. Although he didn’t know if such darkness could ever befall the Warrior of Light.

He himself would return to keep watch over her friends as he’d promised. No other should be tasked with this other than himself since he gave his word and as a knight of honour, he took great pride in it.

Haurchefant’s hands trembled at the thought of the bitter cold which had seeped into the fingers he’d held close a few moments prior. A silent prayer brushed his lips, begging Halone to give his companion strength so the grip of despair may not cling to his love for longer than the night. Although he feared it was just a sign of more trying trials yet to come.

_____________

“Lord Haurchefant!”

The knight turned to the small Lalafell shifting from one foot to the other, standing in the entrance as she was not sure if she was allowed to enter. He dismissed the soldier with a simple hand movement, sending him on his way.

“Please, Miss Tataru,” he called warmly, “There is no need to be so formal. We are but friends. Please, come closer and tell me about your needs.”

The woman lost no time as she quickly followed his offer, a certain hurry clearly visible in her steps. “Have you seen Chirisa? I had hoped to speak to her about Alphinaud. He could use some words of encouragement, but it seems mine are not reaching him. I thought once Chirisa was awake she could cheer him up but then I heard she left Camp Dragonhead at dawn, for what purpose I don’t know.”

If Haurchefant’s smile seemed a bit more forced than usual, Tataru did not care to comment on it.

“Our friend has gone out to hunt for supplies dearly needed in this ever-lasting winter. Though I did not ask for her help, she gave it to me freely. My plea for her to rest a bit longer was quite regrettable lost in the cold winds. I feared she would not find peace here if I were to strip her from the little freedom I can provide.”

Tataru looked quite heartbroken at his words, her fingers intertwining with each other. She looked lost, her gaze searching the room for words she could not find.

“Miss Tataru,” Haurchefant called softly, snapping her attention back to him, “Do not worry yourself over the expense of your well-being. Our friends will call for us when they need us. How can we provide them with strength then if we don’t have any strength left for ourselves?”

Tataru stared at him in surprise, her fumbling fingers stilling. Soon after, her eyes sparkled with new-found confidence as she nodded her head in agreement. “You are right. I will ask if there is any work for me in the kitchens, so I can provide them with a warm meal in the meantime.”

With those words, the little Lalafell gave him a short bow before strolling out of the room with refreshed vigour. The tall Elezen watched her leave in silence, cursing the stinging in his heart. He had to remind himself constantly of the words his father bestowed on him. He could not yet allow himself to fall into panic, hence he could miss the moment his friends needed him the most. Though it provided to be a task growing in difficulty as the sun continued to stride across the sky without a trace of his dearest friend. He had already alerted all the guards at the gates to call for him if there was any sign of the Warrior of Light. But he could not stop the growing unease in his heart as the day continued to near the dreaded twilight.


	2. Chapter 2

Word came to him much too late for his liking. He was told a chocobo with the tell-tale blue harness was spotted at the western entrance to the camp, though the messenger could not confirm if it was truly the one of their Warrior or another since the soldier had run to him as soon as it had been spotted.

Haurchefant lost no further breath on the herald as he ran out the doors to see if the words were true. Snowflakes were dancing in the freezing air and he cursed them for impairing his vision. It was the winds who took pity on his strained heart as they allowed the quiet calling of a chocobo to be carried towards him in the darkness of the night. The messenger had followed him outside with his torch, standing beside him to light the court with the little flame. The crunching of the snow beneath strong feet grew louder as they neared their light.

The blue-haired knight almost forgot to breathe as the loyal bird walked towards him, carrying his friend on its back. The animal itself looked tired but not hurt, although that description could not be applied to its rider. The Miqo’te sat slumped in the saddle, several pelts and bags carefully stacked behind her, one big bag tucked in front of her supporting her weight, preventing her from falling off her trusted winged friend. From what Haurchefant could tell in the dim light, her eyes were closed, but given the calm behaviour of the chocobo, he doubted that any wounds ailed the Warrior of Light. Utter exhausting and the freezing cold were more likely given the finesse the bard had shown with bow and arrow.

‘Chobi’ was the name of the chocobo if his memories weren’t playing tricks on him this late at night. An endearing short name she had gifted him with, although quite uncreative as Chirisa had admitted herself when he’d asked.

With soft words Haurchefant closed the gap between them, calling the name of the bird softly as if he was frightened it would run away with his precious cargo if startled. But the intelligent animal did no such thing. Instead, it was halting and pushing its beak into the awaiting hand of the knight as if it was thankful for his presence. After a few hushed pets on Chobi’s head, Haurchefant allowed himself to take a step closer to take a good look at the slumped rider.

“My friend,” Haurchefant called out softly, in hopes of rousing the Miqo’te. But other than the occasional white vapour leaving alongside her breath, she did not so much as twitch. “Chirisa,” he tried again, the throbbing in his heart spiking when two-coloured orbs glittered for just one moment in the dull light, only to be hidden behind lashes yet again. It was enough to give the knight hope and he acted on it without further hesitation. He waved the waiting soldier holding the torch over, carefully prying the bag in front of his friend from her loose limbs. He thanked the gods for the height of the Elezen, which helped him steady their most precious Warrior when she toppled towards him. Her head landed on his shoulder as he stopped her decent slowly with an arm around her back. The bag was soon forgotten in the hand of the soldier beside him and he continued to pull the woman out of the saddle, flinching as the usually red strands of hair now tainted with frost and ice melted against the warmth of his neck. Only when she was securely settled in his arms, seemingly sleeping against his chest, did he look up, his heart beating with urgency.

“See to it that her companion is well cared for,” he ordered the soldier in hushed tones. Said guard bowed shortly, pushing the bag under his arm to hold the reins of the tired chocobo. Without further ado, Haurchefant rushed in long but steady strides towards his quarters. Even before the guards at the entrance of the building could salute, his voice called out to them.

“Send a chirurgeon into my quarters and make sure the fireplace is cared to at all times. Send words to our guests that their friend has returned but do not wake them should they sleep. Then call a maid and bring a hot meal into my room after you’ve done so.”

The guards had no time to properly answer their lord as he pushed passed them into the building. Few soldiers were still awake at this hour so Haurchefant didn’t worry about rumours spreading until dawn. He would have time to tend to those after he’d tended to the unresponsive cargo in his arms. The knight didn’t allow himself to look at her all the way up to his chambers, fearing his feet would freeze as soon as he did.

With a loud bang, the Elezen kicked the door to his chambers open, trusting that the sturdy wood would forgive him for the harsh treatment. The fire in his room was as always lit, allowing the warmth of the room to even seep into the coldest of limbs. Ever so carefully did he lay the woman in his arms onto the bedsheets, allowing himself to get a closer look at the sleeping woman. Indeed, she looked like she slept, which gave his heart all the more reason to throb. He bit into the leather of his glove, pulling it off his hand. His fingers – not as warm as they were in the night before when he’d held the hands of his dearest friend – brushed against the soft cheek, flinching at the cold radiating off of it. As he let his touch wander to her forehead, her eyes opened ever so slightly.

“Do not fret, my friend,” he whispered in hushed tones, a smile painted on his lips. “You are safe.”

Her eyes closed too soon for his liking, but he pushed the feeling down with vigour. After ridding himself of his second glove, he began to carefully open the frozen buckles on her boots. Under different circumstances, he would have liked to enjoy the task, but now a certain urgency in the back of his mind rid him of all lustrous thoughts. After her boots were carefully pulled off and thrown somewhere into the room – mostly far away so their cold could not hurt her any more than they already did – he continued with the armour plates. He had just tossed the shoulder plate behind him when he heard several footsteps approaching from down the hall. He didn’t dare to pause in his task, fearing that every breath counted in this dire hour. Not even when the chirurgeon stood beside him, did his fingers still.

“My lord,” the chirurgeon greeted, foregoing any formal procedures as his hand rested on the forehead of the fallen warrior like Haurchefant’s did only minutes prior. “She feels like Iceheart herself touched her.” The chirurgeon turned back around to supposedly address someone standing behind them. “Help the lord removing her clothes while I will prepare a tonic to warm her from the inside.”

Shortly after, the chirurgeon was replaced by a maid, joining him in the tedious task of removing the freezing clothes which were supposed to fend off the cold. Soon the room was scattered with water-logged clothes and armour, leaving the Warrior of Light only in her undergarments to protect her modesty. The normally dark-coloured skin shimmered ashen in the lights of the fires. Even when the heat of the room seemingly suffocated Haurchefant himself, did it not fend off the cold trapped under her skin. The Elezen watched heartbroken as the maid dried his friend expertly, only to tuck her into fresh and dry sheets, thick and heavy to keep the little warmth she still held inside her secure.

The two guards had meanwhile returned, one with a whole pot of piping-hot soup, the other with the promise that the little Lalafell had been woken to inform her of her friends return – only after making sure that it had been her utmost wish to one of the guards before turning into bed. She’d promised to be there as soon as she was decent.

A soft groan coming from the lump under the sheets drew Haurchefant’s attention back to his ailing friend.

“My lord!” The chirurgeon called out.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, closing the gap from door to bed quickly. One hand of the chirurgeon was pressed onto Chirisa’s forehead while the other was laid directly over her heart. As soon as Haurchefant was within the chirurgeon’s reach, he took his lord’s hand and placed it on her chest. The Elezen almost hissed at the blinding cold. His other hand quickly found her cheek as if he could banish the cold the more he touched. Only for his breath to leave him as soon as he did. He pushed back the comforter, not caring how carefully she’d been tucked in. His hand found her fingers, closing around them. They were cold but not as cold as the sluggishly beating muscle beneath his touch.

“What is the meaning of this?” He shouted at the chirurgeon, panic gripping his senses. “Her heart is colder than her hands!”

“When I tried to warm her body with a spell, her aether did not react. This is no ailment magic can cure.”

“Tell me you know how to help her,” Haurchefant demanded from the healer, the grip on his friend tightening in a silent plea. He could not lose the Warrior of Light. Not when he took her in in the name of the House of Fortemps. Not when her presence was still so dearly needed in this world. Not when _he_ needed her the most.

“My lord,” the chirurgeon softy said, tearing him from his inner turmoil. “She is very weak and growing weaker still. I have seen poisons work similarly, but this exceeds their potency. It seems like she is all too willingly giving in to the poison, chipping away at her soul.”

“Chirisa…?”

The small voice echoed in the room, drawing the Elezen’s attention to Tataru. She had to have entered the room just now, her eyes fixed on the unmoving woman laying in bed. The quiver in her voice shook the knight’s heart yet again, reminding him, that he was not the only one who so desperately needed the young Miqo’te in his life. How many more would be lost in darkness if she were to succumb to this sickness?

He gritted his teeth, fiercely looking back at the chirurgeon. “If it is a poison, an alchemist could create an antidote, couldn’t they?”

“…My lord–”

“ _Couldn’t they?_ ” He almost seethed, losing his temper for just one moment.

The healer seemed struck silent by the ferociousness, only slowly returning to his professional self. “Yes,” he blatantly stated. “But she is very weak. I doubt she will remain with us long enough so we can dispel this curse.”

That was all the confirmation Haurchefant needed to rekindle the flame of hope in his heart.

“Call the House of Fortemp in Ishgard!” He shouted to the maid standing in the corner while he ripped open the belt keeping his chainmail in place. “They are to send us the best alchemists and astrologians in the city within the hour.” He pulled off the chainmail alongside several layers of clothes, leaving his chest bare. The startled maid quickly ran past the star-struck Lalafell, leaving the room in a hurry. Haurchefant turned back to the chirurgeon while stripping himself of his heavy boots. “Bring me every potion you can spare. It may slow the effect of the poison.”

The man nodded and quickly followed the maid, leaving Haurchefant, Tataru and the unconscious Warrior of Light alone. With nothing more than his pants on – more for his friends’ comfort than his own – he pulled back the sheets and carefully stepped into the bed.

“What are you doing?!” Tataru shouted enraged, a fierce blush painted on her cheeks as the dire situation was momentarily forgotten. Haurchefant draped the sheets over himself and the precious woman beside him, pulling her back against his torso, his skin prickling as the cold brushed against him.

“While the people in the South have specialized in heatstroke, we had to learn how to keep someone from freezing to death,” he explained placidly, encasing the Miqo’te in a loving embrace. Her head rested against his neck, the slow and constant rise and fall of her chest calming his very being. After he was satisfied with her position, he looked back at the still blushing woman standing in the middle of the room. His tone turned into something darker as he went on. “Her heart is turning into ice. If we cannot keep her warm, it will soon fail. I am lending her my warmth so it may not come to it.” Tataru’s skin immediately paled at his words, worry replacing fury.

“…You said something about poison?” She whispered hesitantly, slowly closing in on them both.

Haurchefant nodded, absentmindedly rubbing his thumbs against the cold flesh of Chirisa’s hands, just like he did the day prior. “I fear she might have suffered from it before your journey led you here. After everything you told me, I would not be surprised if they poisoned her to keep the strength of the Warrior of Light in check.” His words drifted off, leaving a pregnant silence in the room.

He didn’t voice all his fears aloud since he didn’t want to break Chirisa’s trust. It seemed she was dead set on leaving her friends in the dark regarding her feelings, her words from the previous night still echoing in his mind. The darkness closed inside her heart might very well be the reason why she grew weaker, even now, lying in his arms.

Tataru was barely tall enough to look over the edge of the mattress, so she pushed a chair towards the enormous bed to get a good look of her friend. Once she stood on the hair, all she could see was the top of her head, everything below her nose was securely hidden under the warm blanket.

“She looks so peaceful,” the Lalafell mumbled, stretching out her hand to rest on top of her head. She silently continued to pet her softly, tears gathering in her eyes, making her purple orbs glitter in the light of the dancing flames. “Please don’t leave us,” she hiccupped after a sob broke her silence, fat tears running over her cheeks. “I could not bear losing you too…”


	3. Chapter 3

It was in the early hours of the morning when Haurchefant was roused from his light doze. The horizon had just begun to lighten, but the fire was still being kept strong. The Elezen didn’t dare to move, not wanting to rouse the woman securely wrapped in his arms. During the night the Miqo’te had nestled herself closely in his chest, her hands wrapping around his back, pressing herself into him in search for warmth. His chin rested on top of her head, one of his hands loosely borrowing into her hair. Though the chill had not left her body after several potions had been administered, she had not grown significantly colder, for which the Elezen praised the Fury vigorously for.

After making sure the state of the Warrior of Light had not worsened, he looked around the room to spot what had roused him from his doze. Though he would never allow himself to fall asleep while the one in his arms could slip away at any moment, he felt a certain unease in his heart.

Tataru had not left her spot from the couch, tucked into a woollen blanked herself, while uneasy slumber had taken her into the lands of dreams. After straining his ears for a moment, he realized that someone was staring at him from above. There, on the bedpost sat a tiny black dragon, his tail lazily swinging as it watched the woman in his arms. Under different circumstances, he would have drawn his sword from under the bed and struck down the beast where it stood, but the look in the dragon’s eyes made him pause.

‘ _Betrayed by the people she once trusted,_ ’ a voice in ancient tongue echoed in his mind. ‘ _Struck down and nearly killed by the ones she called friends_.’ The dragon looked at him. ‘ _Her story is not unlike the fate my dear daughter had to endure, and yet she doesn’t turn to vengeance like my son. Instead, she withers away from the pain inflicted upon her heart._ ’ The beast closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘ _How fragile mortals are. The purer the heart, the more pain they suffer._ ’

Haurchefant looked at the dragon in bewilderment. It spoke as if he’d seen the hardships the Warrior of Light had gone through with its very own eyes, though there was no pity in its voice. The Elezen wondered if he’d fallen asleep and should dismiss the dragon as a mere fever dream, but something about the way the beast had spoken about the one he cherished the most didn’t sit right with him.

The knight’s hand stroked the soft ears of his friend, trying to think of an answer.

“Though mortals are fragile,” he whispered hesitantly, “isn’t this what makes them so beautiful?” He traced the cat ears lovingly with his fingers. “We quarrel and mingle, even kill each other in our desperate search for our fate. But even then, we seek comfort and strength in others.”

‘ _The mistake of trusting others is killing the one you love,_ ’ the dragon stated blatantly.

“And yet, she returned to me, trusting me to catch her where others left her to die.” A sigh escaped his lips. “Though I had hoped she would have opened her heart to me before despair threatened to freeze it in her chest.”

The small beast remained silent for a few moments, considering the words of the mortal. ‘ _I was wondering why Hydealyn chose this mortal to become her embassy. Now I am beginning to understand that it was not the strength she saw in this woman, rather than her ability to connect with others._ ’ The dragon straightened itself, standing on his hind legs. ‘ _Very well. I will grant you one chance to pull her back into the light._ ’ There was a silent disturbance in the aether when the beast vanished in a spark of light. ‘ _Do not waste it,_ ’ the ancient voice echoed in the Elezen’s head.

As soon as it had died out, Haurchefant felt the fingers wrapped around his back quiver, a soft sigh brushing against his neck. Taken aback by the sudden movement, the knight froze, not sure if it had been real or just his imagination. But then soft ears fluttered against his fingers and a shiver seemed to take hold of the Warrior in his arms.

“C-Cold…”

The soft voice was the most beautiful sound he’d heard all his life, forcing him to take a shuddering breath. He pressed the Miqo’te just a tiny bit more into his bare chest, burying his nose into her soft hair.

“Thank the gods,” he whispered into the red strands, his voice nearly failing him. “They brought you back to me.”

“Hau-Haurchefant…?”

The soft breath against his neck filled him with relief. “I am here, my friend.” He slowly started to pet her head just as he did while she was asleep. “I am here.” He thanked Halone that she didn’t try to escape his embrace. Instead, she seemed to burry herself into him, her eyelashes tickling the skin of his neck. A trembling shook her shoulders which had nothing to do with the freezing cold that gripped her heart. Soon there were cold drops of water staining his skin, travelling down to soak into the sheets below.

“I’m sorry…” She whispered against his skin, hiccups shaking her body even more as sleep loosened her lips. “I’m so sorry…”

Haurchefant didn’t try to hush her, instead, he silently listened to her, calmly stroking her back when the trembling in her body grew.

After a few minutes, it seemed like she’d used up all the energy she’d left as words stopped sprouting out of her. Only then did Haurchefant allow himself to loosen the embrace, shifting them so he could look at her face. Tearstains around closed eyes greeted him, and he cupped her face with both of his hands, softly pressing kisses unto both of her lids, halting further tears in their descend. The two-coloured orbs he’d come to love finally revealed themselves to him and he smiled at her as the weight on his chest lightened.

“Tell me what darkness claims your heart, so I may slay it for you and bring you back into the light,” he whispered to her. Her half-lidden eyes filled with fresh tears, rolling down her cheeks and unto his fingers. Although it took some moments, he could see her lips trembling, ready to spill her heart to him, but refusing to word them out loud. The Elezen knew about the burden the Warrior of Light carried on her back. Too many expectations were pushed onto her. Too much for one soul to bear. So much, she wouldn’t allow herself to speak in fear of crushing her in the process.

“Please…” he called softly, carefully drying her cheeks with his thumbs. “Let me give you some of the hope you bestowed onto me. I would gladly give you my life if it meant saving you from this heartbreak.”

Haurchefant could not react quick enough.

He hadn’t thought her to still have so much strength in her weakened body as she quite literally ripped herself from his arms from one second to the other. As he tried to catch her, sharp nails scratched his forearm, leaving four angry-red lines. He did not notice the blood dropping unto the sheets below. His eyes were transfixed on the ashen Miqo’te, standing in the room shivering with barely anything on to cover her skin. The ruffling had woken up Tataru, who was blearily rubbing at her eyes, still half asleep as white fangs sparked in the light.

“I DO _NOT_ NEED YOUR HELP!” She screamed, ears laid back, ready to strike if he so much as moved a muscle.

The doors to the bedroom blew open as the guards positioned outside stumbled in, swords at the ready.

“My lord–”

“Chirisa–!”

Her head whipped around, spotting the little Lalafell who had called out for her, sitting on the couch. All fight left her at the sight of her frightened friend. Her ears twitched, tail dropping listlessly as she realized just how dangerous she must look to all of them. She, the Warrior of Light, was threatening her own friends. The stench of blood filled her nose and her gaze fell to Haurchefant’s outstretched arm. Did she-?

The blue-haired Elezen noticed how her expression turned into anguish once she’d seen his bleeding arm. She looked outright terrified at the sight of his blood, clutching at her hair in desperation, to hide from their stares. His eyes widened in realization, putting the pieces together.

The words from their private chatter the night before echoed in his mind as he slid out of bed, straightening himself to his full height. If she would not let loose of the burden on her shoulders now, her soul would be crushed under the pressure, killing her quicker than the poison in her veins.

“Guards!” He called out, snapping the soldiers out of their stupor. “See to it that all the nearby rooms are emptied. No one is to come close to my chambers until I call for them.”

The two Elezen saluted hastily, quickly following the orders of their lord. When the footsteps retreated down the hallway, Haurchefant turned to the shook Lalafell sitting on the couch. His eyes turned softer, the usual smile playing on his lips.

“Miss Tataru,” he said, anxious eyes fixing on him. “I would ask you to leave this matter to me.”

“But I can’t just–”

“Miss Tataru,” he called out softly, “I know how much you care for our friend and that is why I have to ask you to trust me, although I know how harsh it may seem. I fear this is something only a warrior by heart himself can understand.”

“…A warrior by heart?” The Lalafell asked quietly, her gaze flickered to his still bleeding arm and then to her friend shivering in the corner of the room. The Elezen watched as fresh tears welled up in the little one’s eyes. But she still forced herself to smile at him when she nodded. “I understand.”

With those shaky words, she slowly walked out of the room, taking one last glance at her trembling friend before closing the doors behind her.

Haurchefant took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he took in the silence. If the dragon spoke true, he had only one chance to rebuilt what had been broken. He could only pray her fighting spirit hadn’t been lost to the void yet.

He opened his eyes and looked at the woman standing in the corner. Her skin had grown paler and every breath she took seemingly hurt her. The first few steps went unnoticed, but when he came close enough to reach out for her, her ears began to lay back and the hair on her tail stood on end. A clear warning, he decided to heed.

It pained him to see her react in such a hostile manner, but he knew it was pure instinct trying to shield her from more harm.

“I had dreamed of you marking my body, although I had hoped it to be different circumstances,” he teased lightly. “But I think you already were aware.” When he reached out with his bloody hand, she bared her fangs and hissed at him, eyes hidden behind red strands of hair. He dismissed it as he leaned towards her, crowding her personal space until her back was pressed into the cold stone bricks of the corner. She hissed again when his hand closed in, trying to escape him. But he didn’t give her any room to flee. He took her chin, forcing her to look up. Blood smeared onto her skin, but the Elezen didn’t seem to mind as he leaned down, warm breath tickling against her lips.

“I could take you here and now and nobody would be none the wiser,” he whispered, a smile pulling at his lips. Just as he was about to seal them into a kiss, a hand lashed out, slapping him hard across the cheek, making his ears ring and his teeth ache. It took a few moments to dispel the dizziness, but when he looked at the woman beneath him, he stared into two eyes filled with pure fury. A deep chuckle escaped his chest, cheek stinging ferociously. “And here I’d thought they’d already broken you in Uld’ah…”

He could barely escape the claws aimed at his chest as he stepped back, angry red lines proving how close they had been to breaking skin. His smile widened in anticipation, his eyes sparkling. “Poor lost kitten,” he sing-sang, “Separating her from her flock was all they had to do. How can she protect the people closest to her if she can barely protect herself?”

The infuriated Miqo’te reacted in the only way she knew how: She lunged at him, claws and fangs ready to rip into soft flesh. But strong hands wrapped around her wrists, forcefully holding them in place. She hissed as the Elezen looked down on her and smiled.

“ _You_ are supposed to bring peace to this world, _Warrior of Light_? You are nothing but a _fraud_.”

With a scream she twisted her lower body, kicking her attacker into the groin, throwing him back into the couch behind him. Wood splintered at the fierce impact, broken pieces creaking against each other when the man coughed into his hand.

“ _I know!_ ” The Miqo’te screamed at him in pure anger. “I never asked for any of this! I couldn’t care less about this stupid title! When it mattered the most, I could not even save _one_ of them.” Her eyes stung with tears and she clutched her hands over her heart. “Everyone _died_ because of me! They gave their lives, hoping _I_ would be the one fulfilling their wishes.” A strained gasped filled her lungs. “No one ever asked me what _I_ wished for.”

“What could _you_ even wish for? You’re an adventurer basically living your dream!” Haurchefant coughed, wiping away the spit at the corner of his mouth with his backhand.

“I wanted them to _live_! I wanted to keep them from harm but all I ever did was endanger them! It is my fault Moenbryda died because I am _too weak_ to stop the Ascians! And now…” Fat teardrops fell unto the stone floor. “Yda, Papalymo, Thranced, Y’shtola, Minifilia…”

A terrible scream ripped through the room as the warrior fell to her knees, crying to the heavens as anguish took over. Haurchefant’s heart threatened to splinter at sight of her breaking into pieces. He’d suspected that her despair was buried deep, but to see it all come undone nearly overwhelmed himself with grief.

She would even go so far discarding the title ‘Warrior of Light’ if it meant bringing back all that she’d lost. There was no darkness in her heart, only sadness she had no idea how to deal with. Everyone saw up to her for hope, but to whom could she turn to? The gods? Would they even hear the silent plea of a single mortal?

No, if not even Hydealyn was keeping her warrior from breaking apart, he had to shoulder this task himself.

Haurchefant leaned against the broken couch, watching how his friend could finally free herself from all the pain. It would remain, of course, but the wounds had to be cleaned before they could heal.

Haurchefant lost track of time, waiting until the screams first turned into hoarse cries and finally into unsteady hiccups. He picked up the woollen blanket from the floor and slowly stood up. He knelt in front of the woman, draping the blanket over her head carefully, so she could hide herself in it. Before he had the chance to wrap it securely around her, she let herself fall forward, burying her face in his neck. Somewhat startled by the voluntary contact, he slowly wrapped his arms around her, embracing her softly.

‘ _I dream of the day your smile may renew the hope in others,_ ’ he thought to himself. ‘ _Until then, I will remain closely by your side._ ’

Some hours later the healers ensured him that the heart of the Warrior of Light was strong enough to overcome the sickness since the antidote had shown effect on the remaining poison in her system. The few who had learned of their heroine’s ailment swore an oath in Halone’s name that no word of it would pass their lips. Alphinaud was worried over his friend when he heard that she’d caught a terrible cold while out hunting. Tataru didn’t utter a word as Haurchefant explained to the young boy that she would need a few days rest to return to her full strength. The little Lalafell only nodded at him in understanding, a sad smile settled onto her lips. The story of the fearless Warrior of Light standing strong even in great times of despair soon found its way into Ishgard, where a new tale awaited to be written.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked the story, please leave a Kudo to let me know! ♥


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